Quickest Way To See God

Reading the Gita in front of Maharajji, a devotee paused and asked him what was the quickest and shortest method to see God. Maharajji laughed and asked the man if he knew how to swim. The devotee replied that he did. Then Maharajji said that, in that case, he should first bind his arms and legs, tie himself to large boulders and throw himself into deep water. “Then, you’ll see God right away,” he concluded.

God Was Always Singing

Neem Karoli Baba (circa 1900-1973) never set foot in America. But he would prove to be as important a figure in the coming of the Dharma to the West as many swamis and lamas who set up temples and ashrams here. His influence was felt in the work and lives of his many American devotees, especially former Harvard professor and psychedelic pioneer Ram Dass.

Introduced to Baba in India by an American devotee, Dass later returned to America, where he began lecturing and writing about his experiences with his guru and the yogic teachings he studied while in India. For many American seekers, his talks and books, including the now classic Be Here Now (Lama Foundation, 1971), provided the first exposure to yoga in particular and Eastern philosophy in general and helped touch off a spiritual reawakening.

Maharajji (as Neem Karoli Baba is also known) wrote no books and had no formal doctrine beyond urging his followers to “Love everyone, feed everyone, remember God, tell the truth.”

Instead, devotees say, he was simply a realized being who radiated love. “He’d bop people on the head and pour grace into them,” remembers one woman who first met him in 1970. “God was always singing in his heart.”

Babaji and the Train

Babaji was once wandering somewhere in Eastern U.P. At one place he passed by a railway station. The train happened to be at halt. He had a fancy to travel some distance by train. He got into a nearby coach and sat in an upper class compartment. After a while the train started and continued its journey.

Some time later, a Travelling Ticket Examiner saw this somewhat uncouth, rustic-like person occupying the upper class seat and approached him and asked for his ticket. Babaji just looked up at him once and paid no further attention to his query.  He continued to remain silent in contemplation. The Ticket Examiner was annoyed. He demanded to see the ticket. It was those days when most of the railway staff was either British or at least Anglo-Indian. Babaji shook his head and spread out his empty hands.

The Ticket Examiner understood the situation and decided to take action.  Soon after, the train stopped for a brief halt at a small way-side station in the country-side. Babaji was ordered to get down. He promptly obeyed, left his seat, got down out of the carriage and walking a few steps along the dusty platform went and stayed under the shade of a tree. He seemed absolutely unconcerned of whatever had happened. He paid no attention to what was going on around him.

In a couple of minutes the bell rang, the railway guard blew his whistle and waved the green flag. The engine driver sounded the whistle and started the engine. Nothing happened. The engine did not move and the train continued to stand where it was.

After a few minutes the guard got down and walked up to the engine driver to enquire what the trouble was. No trouble could be detected. Everything seemed to be all right. The engine driver checked everything and tried again. No result. More time passed. The Station Master became anxious. Another train which was due to come by was held up at some station up the line. Telegraphic messages started coming. 15 minutes, 20 minutes and then half an hour passed.

Anxiety built up.

Then a subordinate member of the staff very timidly approached the Station Master and pointing to Babaji sitting under the tree insisted that the whole situation was due to having shown disrespect to the holy man. He suggested that the only way out of the impasse was to approach him and beg his forgiveness and request him to continue his journey without any hindrance. This was conveyed to the guard and the engine driver.

At first they vehemently refused to do any such thing but as more time passed, better reason prevailed. They respectfully approached Babaji, saluted him, asked to be excused for their rudeness, requested him to bless the train and invited him to continue his journey. Babaji looked up and glanced at them for a moment and said “All right, Chalo. Hum chalenge, Hum chalenge” (“All right, Go. I shall come along, I shall come along”) and got up and re-entered the train.

Immediately the engine gave a jerk and the train started to move as though nothing had happened. A little crowd, which had gathered there, in the meanwhile, loudly acclaimed Babaji with awe in their voice. From then onwards no Railway Officer ever interfered with Babaji’s free movement in any train he fancied.

…Sri Swami Chidananda